Flapper's Folly

One of the greatest joys of my life is that my children love each other. It's also one of the biggest surprises. A daughter 25 and a son 21, four years apart so each had plenty of baby time, I've often felt they would gladly murder one another if the opportunity presented itself. Having no siblings myself, I could never understand the bitter fighting and, what seemed to me, absolute hatred they exhibited as children.

From salted hot chocolate to grass burrs hidden in beds, there seemed no end to their meanness. Once they were both out of car seats, I would sit in the backseat with my daughter while my son sat up front with his dad on family trips to avoid the horror of the two them sitting back there. Often more disturbing than the fighting itself was the constant tattling. “He said.” “She said.” “He hit me!” “She took my __” It went on and on.

Now they are adults, (more or less) It’s hard to think of them that way. They are both married. Yes, probably too young, but it tells me that even though their parents’ marriage didn’t survive, they still believe in marriage. Both have wonderful spouses whom I love as my own.

Most surprising is that they love and care for each other the way they do. They confide, commiserate, advise and admonish. They spend hours on the phone sharing their lives, their hopes, and their fears. It’s almost unimaginable. Oh, but it is wonderful and more than I ever hoped for.

I’ve always envied siblings, thinking how great it would be to have someone who had always known you. A person you shared your life, your history with, in a way no spouse or friend or even a parent ever could. I see my parents as they enter old age becoming close once again with brothers and sisters and I thank God that my children will have that. It’s a blessing to know that although I will die and marriages and friendships can dissolve, they will have each other. And always be on the same side.

Blake. Nicole. I am honored to be your mother…